Spoilers: None...But I may be wrong, so hit me if I have any...
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, what she said...
Author's Note: Hmm, well, next chapter, long chapter...In this chapter Bren...No. I have no idea where this story is going. You'll just have to read and find out. But I can't write unless you review! I don't want to continue if ya'll don't like it. That would just be self-centred.I'm not sure whether to end it here, or find the baby-murdering SOB...Opinions will be taken on board most genially. Enjoy!
She drove straight there, ignoring all the buildings and people she passed on the way. She needed to be there. She needed to be with Booth.
As she drove, she was surprised that her mind didn't wander at all. That wasn't like her, and made her slightly uncomfortable. All she could think about was Booth. She wasn't used to focusing on one thing at a time, unless it was her work.
But Booth was her work. At least, he was related to her work. She couldn't do her job without him; they both knew this, but she also knew she was only trying to make sense of things. Of how she felt, of why she was so focused on Booth.
Angela had always told her that if you care for someone enough, nothing regarding them is rational. She didn't want to, but she was starting to believe her.
Brennan was worried about Booth. He wasn't the type of guy who just left like he had. No. Booth would have invited her to go with him, or at the very least say goodbye to her before he left. What was even worse was that he wasn't at work. And he hadn't been since she saw him.
This couldn't be a good sign.
She subconsciously pulled up in front of the building and parked her car. She hadn't realized how used to the drive she was, even though she was never the one who drove. She smile against her will at this thought. The driving was just so...Booth.
She got out of the car quickly, still in a sort of daze, not allowing herself the luxury of taking her time. She found herself almost running to the elevator, and slowed down. If he was here, which she was certain her was, he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. And even if he did, she'd see him do so anyway.
This made her feel a little better, as did simply being in the building. His building. She was on her way to see him, and this caused her an awkward amount of comfort. She really wasn't used to feeling this way about anyone.
She was happy to see that the elevator had just opened across the foyer. She hurried in just as an old man was coming out. She nodded her head at him, and he tipped his hat: an old grey and navy green fedora. It reminded her of Vegas, and she smiled again as the doors closed.
The elevator took way too long. She needed to get there faster. But she knew that whether the elevator was going to the first floor or the twelfth it would still take too long. Still, knowing this didn't quell her impatience at all.
She watched the numbers burn a bright red, teasing her: will they, won't they, will they, won't they? The number she had been waiting for glowed.
They will.
She stepped out onto his floor, like she'd done so many times. But this time was slightly different. She wasn't there with him; his hand was not on her back like it usually was. This made her feel even more awkward, both for intruding, and for him not being there, touching her.
She reached his door and knocked, barely able to think. She wasn't nervous. Well, she was, but not for any good reason. She was nervous for Booth. For what it was that made him leave without saying a thing, so abruptly.
And during this case...
She heard rustling inside, and a hefty thud, followed by a deep groan, then finally the lock being drawn on the other side of the door. She took a breath and held it.
At the first sight of Booth her breath gushed out.
He was standing before her, in bare feet, pair of light blue cotton pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He looked...damn good. But this wasn't what caught her attention. No.
Booth's eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept for days, but his cheeks were flushed. And wet.
He'd been crying.
And a lot, by the looks of it. Brennan had an overwhelming urge to hug him, but she stopped herself. Maybe he didn't need that right now.
Brennan felt for him. She wanted to help him.
"Booth." She looked into his red eyes, hoping he saw the understanding she was trying to convey, the empathy she was feeling for him.
He didn't speak, only moved aside in invitation. As she went inside he quietly closed the door behind her. When she turned to face him, he looked at her imploringly. He didn't want to talk right now, that would make him crack. Especially with her there. She made him want to talk about it, but he couldn't put this all on her.
He moved across the room and sat down on the couch, smiling at her slightly, welcoming her to do the same. Brennan looked around the room for a few seconds, unsure, and then moved over to where Booth was sitting.
He was surprised that she sat so close to him. Normally it was like there was an invisible wall between the two: A Safe Distance. But now she sat so that their thighs were touching, and grabbed his hand.
He placed his free hand over hers, holding it securely between both hands, seeking comfort in it; in her. Finally, she looked at him.
A tear was falling down his cheek, betraying his silence. He turned to her, knowing what she knew: that he couldn't handle it. At least, not on his own. Not without her.
They sat on his couch like this for what seemed like the longest time, staring at each other; reading each other. Then, looking away, he spoke.
"P..." - he took a deep, shuddering breath - "Parker." His voice cracked, and Brennan found herself again wanting to hold him, like a child, as tears formed in his beautiful eyes.
She looked at him solemnly. "I know." She nodded ever so slightly, forcing back her tears, before laying her head on his shoulder. The last thing that would help him right now would be for her to cry. Every time the tears came too close, she would tell herself, For Booth. It was the only thing that seemed to work.
Booth tried to speak, his voice thick with tears. "I...Bones, I ca-If he-" As he continued to choke over his words, she raised her head so she could look into his eyes.
"No, Booth. No. Don't think about that. He's okay, Booth. Look at me." Booth shut his eyes tightly before looking at her, calming himself, praying. The next thing she said shocked them both.
"I...I love Parker, Booth. I-we will never let him get hurt like that. Never, Booth." She was shocked by what she'd just confessed, but she didn't flinch, or shy away like he thought she would. She continued to look him in the eyes, to tell him she wasn't lying. He knew she wasn't.
"Bones, if I lost him..." he sobbed. Brennan didn't want him to think that way. She didn't want to think that way. She quickly shook her head.
"Booth. Booth." She finally caught his distant gaze. "Do you trust me?"
"What?" He looked quizzically at her from under tensed brows. Her look told him what he needed to know; it also told him that she needed him to respond. "Yes, Temperance, I trust you."
"Good. Now listen to me: Parker is okay. He's with Rebecca." She emphasized each word, like she was talking to a child. She had found, working with Booth, that people who are grieving or emotional are not thinking straight; logically. Booth was no different. Neither was she.
Booth nodded ever so slightly, dipping his head to let his tears fall, unseen, onto their entwined hands. She leaned her head against his shoulder again, closing her eyes to trap the tears.
This simple gesture from her made him lose all logic and sense of chivalry, and he pulled her onto his lap swiftly, locking his arms around her and pushing his damp face into her hair, still sobbing lightly.
Brennan was stunned by this display but didn't say anything. If this is what he needed, so be it. She knew that what he needed was understanding, and she could give that to him. She understood what he was thinking of, even if she couldn't comprehend the extent of his pain. She did love Parker, but Booth...He was Booth's son.
Closing her eyes again, and taking a deep breath, she snuggled into him, throwing all reason and caution to the wind.